


Devil in the Dark

by GretaRama



Category: Welcome to Night Vale
Genre: Appearance of non-con, Consensual Kink, Cuddling & Snuggling, Explicit Consent, Horrified onlookers, M/M, Porn with the barest soupcon of plot, Sexual Content, Star Trek References, Swearing, Tentacle Sex, Tentacles!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-08
Updated: 2015-06-08
Packaged: 2018-04-03 12:29:11
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4100965
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GretaRama/pseuds/GretaRama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>I came across a post on the kinkmeme (details in the notes at the end), requesting consensual monster-on-man porn with a side dish of misunderstandings on the part of horror-stricken accidental audiences, and I thought, "I've never written anything with tentacles. Maybe now is the time."</p><p>There is now a sequel to this work, if you'd like to read more: http://archiveofourown.org/works/4304532</p>
            </blockquote>





	Devil in the Dark

The three scientists sat around the pushed-together tables that made up the largest work space in the lab, staring at the letter they had found under the door that morning.

“What do you think this means?” Pritha asked. “Is it some kind of joke?”

“I don’t know,” Rochelle replied. She picked up the letter and the envelope, examining the official City of Night Vale Seal printed on each. “This _looks_ real, but…well, Night Vale, right? Who knows?”

The letter read:

_Dear Team of Scientists,_

_The Mayor’s office is pleased to announce that your team has been awarded the prestigious Night Vale Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner Grant in the sum of:_

_**A lot. Seriously, you won’t even believe how much it is, just you wait, you are going to FLIP OUT when you see this check.** _

_Congratulations! Although we considered many worthy and important projects for this competitive prize, your team’s project was found to be the worthiest and most important in a unanimous vote by the Night Vale T ~~op Secret Committee of Secret Science Secrets~~. We look forward to the life-changing results of your vital research._

_Best wishes,_

_The Honorable Pamela Winchell, Mayor_

 

“Did we even apply for this grant?” Pritha asked. “I don’t remember ever hearing anything about it. Or any grant, for that matter. Now that I’m thinking about it, how are we even funding this research?”

“Carlos would have told us if he were applying for anything – we always do our grant proposals as a team,” Jamahn said. “Besides, you know how terrible he is at formatting. He’d have at least had one of us help him justify his margins.”

Rochelle set the document down and tapped one finger on it thoughtfully. “The Children’s Fun Fact Science Corner is a segment on that radio show,” she said. “Do you think it’s a coincidence that this happened right after Carlos’s date with Cecil?”

“What, like you think Cecil pulled some strings?” Pritha asked. “I guess it’s possible, but why? It’s not like we’re desperate for funding. At least, I don’t think we are.”

“Well, we’re definitely not now,” Rochelle said, tapping one finger thoughtfully on the letter. “And I don’t know why Cecil would do this, except that he’s been radio-stalking Carlos for like, a year, and they just went out on their first date. Maybe this is supposed to be a reward, or something.”

“Holy shit,” Jamahn said. “Are you thinking we pimped Carlos out to his stalker?”

“We _did_ kind of pressure him to talk to Cecil all the time,” Pritha said nervously. “I mean, we needed the positive press, and Cecil was so obviously into him…but I guess I thought Carlos could handle it.”

“I assumed Carlos knew the guy was a little unhinged,” Jamahn said. “How could he not be getting the ‘proceed with caution’ vibe from someone who violently exiled the town barber for cutting his hair?”

Just then, the door swung open and Carlos entered the building, juggling his lab keys, a travel mug, and his knapsack, as well as what appeared to be a sealed mason jar containing a small black cloud. A warm, dusty breeze blew in behind him, ruffling his hair. A silence fell over the three scientists gathered around the table.

“Hi guys,” Carlos said. When no response came immediately, he glanced up at the others, smiling uncertainly. “Am I interrupting something?”

Jamahn and Pritha both looked at Rochelle, who picked up the letter. “This was under our door this morning.” She handed the paper and envelope to Carlos, who set down his various burdens and read the letter quickly.

“Hey, that’s great!” He said. “Maybe now we can finally get someone to ring the doorbell of that house in the Desert Creek subdivision.”

“Did you apply for this grant?” Rochelle asked hopefully.

“No,” Carlos answered. “Didn’t you guys?”

“Carlos, we would have told you,” Pritha said. “We were thinking maybe…” she glanced at Rochelle, who nodded her encouragement. “…maybe Cecil put in a good word for you.”

“Cecil?” he asked doubtfully. “But...with who? Why?”

“He’s got a lot of influence around here,” Jamahn pointed out. “Maybe you should ask him if he knows anything about it.”

“Okay, I’ll ask, but I really doubt it,” Carlos answered. “Besides, he’s just a radio host, it’s not like he’s a politician or something. This doesn’t really seem like his kind of thing.”

“So, speaking of Cecil,” Rochelle said. “How was your date last night? You look a little tired.”

“It was fine,” he said. “I’m sure you’ll hear all about it later. I had to bail out early because of that whole shadow-energy thing, but yeah, it was good.” He gestured at the mason jar full of buzzing darkness. “I was up kind of late trying to stop it from turning everyone into a glob of buzzing darkness.”

“Huh,” Rochelle said, and shot a look at Pritha and Jamahn, who were both making rotating gestures with their hands and pointing at Carlos. Jamahn mouthed the words _keep it going_ and Pritha nodded in agreement.

“So…” Rochelle continued. “Do you think you’ll see him again?”

“Sure,” Carlos said absently, as he logged in to his computer and quickly checked his email.

“Carlos,” Pritha finally asked. “Was it okay? Are _you_ okay? He didn’t, like, try anything weird, did he?”

“Weird?” Carlos said blankly. “No, not really, why?”

“We feel like we pressured you to talk to him,” Rochelle said. “We really needed favorable press coverage, and he was so open about his crush on you, we figured you’d be the best person to handle that particular relationship. But I hope you know that we were only pushing it because we assumed he was just a harmless…” she almost said “wacko,” but caught herself just in time.“…guy.”

Carlos stood up and began packing things back into his knapsack. “Look, you guys, I wouldn’t go out with someone just to get press coverage, and I certainly wouldn’t let myself be pressured into a relationship I didn’t want.”

“Are you sure?” Rochelle asked. “I felt kind of bad, the way we were egging you on all last year.”

“Egging me on? I didn't even notice," Carlos said, slinging his knapsack over his shoulder and adjusting his glasses. “Don't worry about me. Worry about those test results.” He pointed to the experiment Jamahn and Pritha were currently running. “I’ve got to check on the seismometer we set up along Route 800. Have you seen the results from the last few weeks? It’s so exciting! I’ll be back later.” The door clattered shut behind him and another gust of hot dry air blew inside.

“What the actual fuck?” Rochelle said, as soon as Carlos was gone. “I’m sorry, but that radio guy is a complete freakshow. And this _cannot_ be a coincidence,” she held up the letter.

“I can’t believe how _okay_ Carlos is with this place,” Jamahn said. “Cecil probably took him out for Kool Aid somewhere.”

“You know how he is, half his brain is always somewhere else. Cecil could be telling him about his private torture closet and he wouldn’t notice,” Pritha said. “But…Carlos is a grown-up. If he’s okay with it, it’s not really our business.”

“Maybe we should just keep an eye on him for now,” Rochelle said. “I know he’s a grown-ass man, but still. If anyone hears about a second date, keep the rest of us posted, okay? This town has already tried to kill him once, and we can’t afford to lose Carlos.”

* * *

Carlos was really happy with the way his relationship with Cecil was going. Cecil’s inviting personality made him feel comfortable in a way he never had so early in a relationship, and there was a lively physical chemistry between them that he found hard to resist. Even the brief kiss that punctuated their first date, which Carlos had intended as a quick peck of farewell, had burned through his system like cocaine. Although they both agreed that they should take things slow, their last few dates had culminated in ravishing makeout sessions that left Carlos feeling hot and frustrated for hours afterward.

It was in the midst of one of these that Cecil revealed an enchanting surprise.

“Tentacles?” Carlos asked.

“Yes,” Cecil said, his breath a little ragged. “They respond to certain kinds of stimulation, you see, and…well.” He blushed, casting his glance downward. “They’re already close to manifesting. It would take almost nothing to…”

“How many? Where? Are they sensitive? Can I touch them? What do they do?” Carlos peered around Cecil’s shoulder curiously.

“If you don’t mind,” Cecil said shyly, laying one hand over Carlos’s, “It’s probably easier to just show you.” His hands went to his shirt buttons as he looked inquiringly at Carlos. Carlos brushed Cecil’s hands aside and unbuttoned the shirt himself, pushed it down over Cecil’s shoulders, and leaned forward to nuzzle at his neck. Cecil gasped and nearly swooned.

The answers to Carlos’s questions turned out to be “A lot of them,” “They emerge from small openings in my back,” “Very,” “ _Oh god yes_ ,” and “Whatever you’d like them to.” Carlos quickly discovered that these boneless appendages were strong, flexible, incredibly sensitive, and versatile. They also seemed independent in ways Cecil’s arms and legs were not.

“”They’re beautiful,” Carlos said, examining the slinking blue-black vine that curled around his forearm. He touched it and it shivered. He rubbed it gently with his thumb, and Cecil sighed in pleasure.

“You’re not…I don’t know, _bothered_ by them?”

“God, no,” Carlos said. “I’ve always wanted to…” he trailed off, blushing, and Cecil tilted his head.

“What?” he asked. “If you’ve always wanted to date someone with tentacles, I’d really like to know.”

“Well, no, not exactly,” Carlos said. “It’s hard to explain.”

“Try anyway,” Cecil said, taking his hand. “Please.”

“It’s not that…it’s just…how to put it into words? I…I like discovering things that are a little different. I like it when a relationship pushes boundaries and leads to new understandings. Like…like Spock and the Horta.”

“The Horta,” Cecil said, after a long pause, “looked like a partially digested foam rubber broccoli pizza.”

Carlos stifled a laugh. “I guess it did, a little. But I wasn’t making a physical comparison.”

“Hmm.”

“You’re only about a million times more attractive, Cecil.”

“Well,” Cecil said, appeased. “I’m sure it would have been attractive to other Hortas.”

“The Horta was unique. Wonderful. A truly special and singular entity.” Carlos laid one hand alongside Cecil’s handsome face, framed by the tentacles arrayed behind him, a black, undulating starburst. “Like you.”

“Oh,” Cecil said, leaning into Carlos’s palm affectionately. “That’s actually _very_ sweet.”

“And sometimes I like to fantasize about being kidnapped by a monster,” Carlos added. “I don’t know why, there’s just something really sexy about it.”

“Um…I suppose I can find _some_ way to take that as a compliment.”

“My point is that you’re amazing. These,” and here he slid one hand along the tentacle that trailed down Cecil’s chest, “are fascinating, and _completely_ hot.”

Cecil caught his breath audibly as Carlos lifted one curling tendril and kissed it, slipped it inside his mouth and sucked it gently, meeting Cecil’s eyes. Carlos’s own eyes widened as Cecil’s pupils seemed to grow, then to spread, blackening the whites of both eyes like spilled ink.

Cecil leaned forward and kissed him lightly on the mouth. Carlos’s hands slid down Cecil’s naked chest, Cecil’s hands followed the long muscles of Carlos’s thighs toward his hips, and the kiss went from delicate to dirty in fairly short order.

As they kissed, tentacles twined around Carlos’s ankles and wrists, swirled across his chest, slithered between his legs, fondling and caressing him until he was so turned on he could hardly stand it. He broke away from Cecil, flushed and panting.

“I need to…can we just…” he said, but he got no further. Tentacles tightened instantly around his ankles and wrists, pinning him hard against the sofa cushions.

Carlos lay, helpless and breathless, staring up in awe and more than a little excitement. Within seconds, Cecil’s eyes, which had gone entirely black in the heat of the moment, returned to normal, the tentacles snapped away from him and furled meekly behind Cecil’s shoulders.

“I’m _so_ sorry,” Cecil fretted, his hands gentle on Carlos’s body, worry evident in his voice and posture. “I didn’t hurt you, did I? Oh, I should have known they’d get carried away, it’s been so long and I was so...well, it’s no excuse …are you all right? Carlos?”

Carlos felt bereft. “Cecil,” he said, still breathing hard, I...” he couldn’t find the words, so he just pulled Cecil down on top of him, crushing their mouths together. “Do it again,” he gasped. “Please, Cecil.”

“Oh,” Cecil said, and then, looking at the pleading expression on Carlos’s face, he said it again, this time with an air of profound realization and tenderness. “ _Oh_.”

Carlos stopped breathing for several seconds, until he felt a tentacle wriggle first around one ankle, then the other. Two more looped about his wrists, applying gentle pressure. Cecil tightened his knees against Carlos’s hips, and lifted one eyebrow in inquiry.

“Oh… _yes_ ,” Carlos said, and the tentacles gripped harder with a distinct air of enthusiasm. Cecil leaned down, kissed Carlos lingeringly on the mouth, and then whispered in his ear, “Have you always liked this?”

Carlos was shaking. Cecil’s effortless and total restraint of his body had released something inside him, something new and unfamiliar and consuming. “I – I don’t know, I’ve never…” his words came in hiccupping gusts. His agitation seemed to be kindling Cecil, whose eyes were going black again, the tentacles lashing and writhing around him.

“Cecil…” Carlos moaned, pushing his hips up into Cecil’s body, wanting the contact and the denial of it in equal measure. The whiplike appendages held him firmly.

“Beautiful Carlos,” Cecil whispered as one nimble tentacle removed Carlos’s shirt and another slipped below the waistband of his jeans. “This is going to be fun.”

* * * 

For a while, it appeared that their concerns were unwarranted. Carlos seemed happy and very much his usual self, and Cecil had toned down his blithe on-air oversharing. Then, one morning, Pritha noticed something alarming.

“Take a look at his wrists,” she whispered to Rochelle as they refilled their coffee cups in the break room.

As soon as she was back out in the lab, Rochelle made her way to Carlos’s workstation. “Could you have a quick look at my results on the network drive?” she asked. “I just want to make sure I’m not imagining things. It looks like at least half the people who rode the subway have no information left in their DNA.”

As he moused over to her results folder, Rochelle eyed his wrists, only partially hidden by the sleeves of his lab coat. She could just make out angry red marks on the slightly lighter skin of his inner wrists. Her eyes flicked over the rest of him, and thought she could make out another, similar mark just below his collar on his neck.

“Ooh, ouch,” she said, pointing to one of his wrists. “What happened there? It looks like a burn or something.”

“What? Oh. Oh, that,” he said, blushing and dropping his eyes, moving his wrist away from her as if that might make her un-see the injury. “Um, nothing. Just an accident. These results look good, by the way. I don’t think it’s an error in the gene sequencer, because there’s no obvious pattern to the samples with no data. But go ahead and run them again, just to make sure, okay?”

“Okay, I will.” She hesitated. “Carlos…are you _sure_ you’re all right? Those marks…”

He smiled easily. “It’s really nothing, Rochelle. Don’t worry about it.”

Rochelle did worry, though, and later that evening, she shared her concerns with Pritha and Jamahn. “I’m worried that Cecil might be…I don’t know, _abusing_ him in some way. Those looked like burns or ligature marks or something. And there was one around his neck, too.”

“I can’t believe this,” Pritha said. “Why would anyone want to hurt Carlos? What should we do?”

“Nothing. It’s not our business,” Jamahn said.

“No, wait,” Rochelle said. “Think about it. Why _would_ anyone want to hurt Carlos? What if it’s not about him personally? What if it’s about the work we’re doing?”

“We could all be in danger,” Pritha said quietly. “But honestly, it’s bad enough if it’s just Carlos, you know?”

“If Carlos won’t admit that there’s a problem, there’s not much we _can_ do,” Rochelle said. “It’s not like the Secret Police are going to help.”

“They must already know, anyway,” Pritha said. “They’re everywhere. Or at least, their cameras and microphones are. They could be behind it, for all we know.”

“Or maybe they look the other way where Cecil is concerned,” Rochelle said darkly.

“I think we should talk to Carlos before we even think about doing anything else,” Jamahn said. “But not until we’re 100% sure that something is going on.”

Rochelle sighed. “How are we supposed to get to 100% certainty? We can’t just follow them home.”

“Oh!” Pritha said suddenly, snapping her fingers.

“What is it?” Rochelle asked.

“I have Carlos’s spare key,” she said, rummaging in her messenger bag and producing a key attached to a tiny plastic replica of the Borg cube. “We live in the same complex, we exchanged spare keys when we first moved in, in case one of us ever gets locked out.”

"So what, we're just going to walk into his house and check on him?" Jamahn said. "Subtle."

Rochelle rolled her eyes. "We're going to <i>sneak</i> into his house to check on him," Rochelle said. "At least then we'll know what's going on."

"And then what?" Pritha asked.

"I guess we can decide that once we know what's really happening between those two." Rochelle said. "Call us next time you see Cecil and Carlos show up at Carlos's place, okay?"

Pritha clenched her fist around the small Borg cube. "Okay," she said. "Next time...I'll call."

 

* * * 

 

Cecil and Carlos barely made it through the door before they were in one another’s arms. They stumbled across the living room, lips locked, tongues tangling, tearing at each other’s clothes. They made their way awkwardly to the bedroom without breaking contact, and collapsed onto the bed, devouring each other with kisses.

Carlos slid his knee between Cecil’s legs, pushing his thigh against Cecil’s rising erection, and felt it harden in response. The awareness of Cecil’s wanting made his own arousal sharper, tightening in his lower belly and making his head swim.

Cecil began to move his hips, rubbing himself against Carlos’s thigh with increasing abandon, and Carlos caught his breath, hands working up under Cecil’s shirt. He could feel the slick openings along each side of Cecil’s back, the heated pulse of the hidden appendages within. He let his fingers play along the edges, coaxing the fluid limbs out from hiding.

“Oh, _Carlos_ ,” Cecil groaned, as his body shuddered and he exhaled, making a noise deep in his throat as his back arched against the bed. Almost at once, Carlos felt the tentative touches of tentacles, winding up and into his hair, wiggling against his ear, caressing the sides of his face. One warm, delicate tendril pressed a disc-shaped sucker against his mouth, making a sweet small sound like a kiss, while the end trailed along his lower lip.

Cecil’s hands, freed from other tasks, moved against his chest, sliding his shirt up and over his head. “Want you,” Cecil said. “Carlos…oh, I wanted this so much, your skin, oh _god_ you’re so beautiful…never wanted anyone so much…” and he pressed feverish kisses to Carlos’s throat and chest.

“Cecil,” Carlos whimpered, as Cecil rolled on top of him, tentacles stretching out along his arms and legs, winding around his ankles and wrists, pinning him in place. Cecil silenced him with a wet, open-mouthed kiss that left him breathless.

“Do you want me to…?” Cecil asked, as the tentacle that had been flirting with his mouth slipped inside. Carlos caught it delicately between his teeth and sucked, circling it with his tongue, and Cecil bit his lip, his skin flushing and growing warmer. The tentacle slickened in response, and Carlos felt his breath hitch in anticipation. The tentacle pulled free and Carlos breathed, “Yes, Cecil…please.”

“Anything for you,” Cecil said, tightening his grip at wrists and ankles even as the tentacle dragged along Carlos’s body, beneath the waistband of his jeans, slithered thrillingly over his cock and found the opening of his body. The slick, narrow tip moved gently inside, just slightly beyond the point of comfort, and paused, allowing Carlos’s body to stretch around it, before sliding in further.

Carlos’s heart was pounding and when he looked up at Cecil, he could see that his eyes had gone almost completely black with desire. There was a light sheen of sweat on Cecil’s skin, a quivering tension in his body. Something flicked against Carlos’s bare waist and then his jeans and boxers were ripped away from his body and thrown skidding across the room.

The sensation of surfeited fullness inside him increased as the appendage thrust deeper inside, rubbing against his prostate, drawing a wail of pleasure from his throat. Cecil, still astride him, kissed and licked his way down Carlos’s torso, pausing to lavish attention upon each stiff nipple, lick inside his navel, nip at the softness of his belly, until he finally, _finally_ took Carlos’s brutally hard cock in his mouth, sliding his tongue along the underside.

Carlos had never felt so helpless. His body ached to thrust into Cecil’s mouth, but the delicious movement inside him made it impossible. All he could do was lay there and take it, and he felt liberated, free to feel each successive wave of pleasure, because he was utterly incapable of doing anything else.

The tentacles pinning his arms and legs squeezed gently and Cecil pulled his mouth away, eliciting a sob of pained unfulfillment from Carlos.

“Do you remember what we were talking about the other day?” Cecil asked. “You were telling me about a fantasy you had once?”

“Oh _god_ Cecil,” Carlos groaned.

“Well, now you _have_ been kidnapped by a monster,” Cecil said, letting several tentacles rise up menacingly behind him, although he was smiling tenderly down at Carlos in a way that was as far from threatening as could be imagined. Tentacles thrashed, lifting Carlos up onto his knees as Cecil turned, lowering himself to all fours. Tentacles pulled Carlos’s trembling hands forward toward the curve of Cecil’s ass. They loosened their grip just enough that he could caress Cecil’s skin. Carlos slid one trembling finger inside, but he found the entrance already relaxed and slick.

“I’ve been thinking of you a lot lately,” Cecil panted softly as Carlos pressed into him with two fingers, then three. “Do you see what you do to me? How much I want you?”

“Yes – _oh_ \- yes!” Carlos whispered, as circling tentacles pulled his hands away roughly, twisting them behind his back. The tentacle inside him began thrusting roughly and rhythmically, hitting all the right places, and he let out a stuttering groan.

Another twirling limb entwined his throat and shoved past his lips, muffling his cry of surprise and pleasure. “The terms of your imprisonment are simple: fuck or die,” Cecil said with a delightfully evil inflection, pressing back against Carlos’s throbbing cock, and oh god it was _so_ good, the tight heat of Cecil’s body, and he squeezed his eyes shut as he was wracked with pleasure.

A tentacle wrapped around his waist, propelling him into Cecil more firmly, the tentacle in his mouth was beginning to push further into his throat, and he felt his eyes roll back in his head. There were tentacles _everywhere_ , brushing against his balls and his nipples, tugging at his hair, and oh, _god_ there was another one, pressing at his entrance alongside the first. The burn of its entry was so glorious that his body shook, and he made helpless muffled sounds against the tendril sliding in and out of his mouth.

The orgasm he could feel building inside him was already light years beyond anything he had ever felt in his life. It was only heightened by the fact that Cecil would sporadically stop, holding him weightless and suspended, unable to follow his body’s rhythm to its ecstatic conclusion. The frustration, the helplessness, the infuriatingly delicious stimulation all conspired to make him dizzy with arousal.

There was another brief, agonizing halt in his motion and he almost screamed against the tentacle that had just bumped the back of his throat. It slid most of the way out, freeing his mouth. “Oh, _god_ , Cecil, you’ll kill me, you’re _killing_ me, I can’t, I _can’t_ …” tentacles nudged his shaking hands forward again and he gripped Cecil’s hips, pushing into him, making small whimpering sounds of pleasure and urgency, feeling gooseflesh rise on Cecil’s skin.

“More,” Cecil begged, pushing back against him, and Carlos made himself go faster, harder, even as the tentacle pressed to his prostate commenced a light flicking motion that threatened to undo him completely.

“Ohhhhh _god_ ,” he rasped, pulling Cecil more firmly against himself and shoving roughly into him. He was close…so close…so very, very close –

And then suddenly he was pulled away from Cecil, pushed face down on the bed. Cecil’s hands brushed his hips, and the pressure of the tentacle inside him suddenly withdrew. He almost sobbed in frustration.

“There, there,” Cecil said, rubbing one hand soothingly along the plane of his hip and pressing himself against the entrance to his body. “Let me take care of you.” Carlos’s entire body went hot. He was pinned against the bed, one slick tendril teasing at his mouth as Cecil pushed into him with a gasp, and he was trembling, everywhere, with a mixture of desire and frustration and incredible elation. He was practically hyperventilating, heaving for breath, and the pressure of Cecil inside him sent shivers up his spine and twinges through his cock.

Cecil's hands were soft against his skin and he was moving delicately, gently. Carlos didn’t need gentleness, though, he needed more, he needed Cecil deeper inside him because it felt so, so fucking good, so he pushed back into the next thrust, urging him to go faster, to fuck him _harder,_ to give him more. “Oh, God! Cecil- nggh- hah, I c-can’t, I n-need-” Carlos wailed, as Cecil pressed right up against that sweet spot, sending spasms of pleasure through his entire body. His eyes rolled up in his head as he was wracked with a disastrous kind of ecstasy that curled his toes and made him sob with want. “Cecil, please, p-please don’t- ” _Don’t stop don’t stop don’t stop_ , he thought, no longer capable of forming the words.

Tears gathered in his eyes but he didn’t care, he felt so undone. “Harder,” he moaned, clenching his hands into fists in the bedspread. It was all he could manage, but finally, finally, it seemed it was enough. Cecil finally gripped Carlos’s hips harder, fingertips sinking into his flesh, and with a guttural sound like a growl, began pounding into him, even as a slim tentacle wound itself around Carlos’s painfully erect cock, sliding and pulsing with impossible dexterity.

“Carlos, you’re so beautiful like this,” Cecil whispered huskily into his ear, and then all Carlos could hear was his heavy breathing, hitching a little with each thrust into his body. Carlos was so far gone he couldn’t think, he just felt so needy and ready and - _oh fuck_ \- just as he felt himself about to surrender to his surely now-inevitable orgasm, the tentacle that had been moving around his cock pulled away and he almost screamed in frustration.

“No – n-no…I c-can’t…I can’t s-stand it…no more, please, no more…it’s too, t-too much…” Then, seconds later, he felt Cecil’s hand around his length. His hips bucked back against Cecil’s cock and forward into Cecil’s stroking hand once, twice, and then _oh sweet holy motherfucking goddamn shit_ he finally, _finally_ came, so hard it almost hurt. His body quaked with the successive waves of orgasm, all of his muscles loosening and quivering with the force of it.

Seconds later, with a deliciously shivery groan of pleasure, Cecil shook to pieces inside him, and they collapsed together on the mattress.

* * *

Carlos’s front door wasn’t even closed all the way, it was propped on the latch. Pritha slipped the key back into her pocket and pushed tentatively, leaning close to listen.

“I don’t hear anything,” she whispered, pushing the door open a little more. She peered inside. “I think it’s clear,” she said, but she hesitated.

“Go ahead,” Rochelle said, and all three scientists slipped quietly inside.

“Are they even here?” Jamahn whispered, as they crept through the dark entryway into the living room.

“Shh,” Rochelle said, pointing. The hallway that led back into the bedroom was strewn with various articles of clothing.

A sinister voice was just audible from the end of the hall. “The terms of your imprisonment are simple: fuck or die.”

“Oh my god,” Pritha whispered, gripping Rochelle’s arm.

“Shit,” Jamahn said. “Maybe we should just-”

“No,” Rochelle said, holding up one hand and listening intently. Then she crept closer, beckoning the others to follow. They took a few steps, paused, a few more steps, and paused again.

Just then, there was a shout, followed by a wavering wail, and then Carlos’s voice. “Oh, _god_ , Cecil, you’ll kill me, you’re _killing_ me, I can’t, I _can’t_ …”

The three scientists froze, staring down the hallway in horror.

“What should we do?” Pritha asked.

“Come on,” Rochelle whispered. “We’ve come this far.” She tiptoed down the hall, Pritha and Jamahn in tow. They paused again as murmuring voices became audible, then another anguished sound.

“Oh my god,” Jamahn said, his voice low but urgent. “Look!” He pointed to the wall opposite the open bedroom door. Moonlight from the bedroom window made a bright square on the wall, and within it, completely inexplicable shadows thrashed, long, undulating shapes whipping about in the dim moonlight. “What _is_ that?” He asked. “How – what could be causing that…” he wiggled one hand in illustration.

“Cecil, please, p-please don’t- ” came Carlos’s voice, and Rochelle closed the final few steps to the bedroom door. The others followed, and slowly, cautiously, they leaned around the doorjamb.

Behind them, shadow tentacles thrashed on the smooth beige wall. In front of them, something far more intense was unfolding.

Rochelle’s hands tightened on the doorframe, while Pritha’s tightened in the fabric of Rochelle’s sweater. They stared in horror at the scene before them.

Jamahn gripped Pritha’s arm and tugged as he walked backwards down the hall. “Come on, you guys,” he hissed. “We are getting the fuck out of here right fucking now. Nobody said anything about…whatever the fuck that is!”

“But…but it has Carlos,” Pritha whispered as he pulled her toward the door. “He was screaming, begging…”

“You saw that thing – all those tentacles? What could we possibly do for him? We’ve got to go, now!”

“What was it even _doing_ to him?” Pritha asked faintly.

“I don’t know,” Rochelle said, hurrying down the hallway after them. “I mean, I have some idea…but _god_ , poor Carlos!"

"Was that...Cecil?" Jamahn asked. "You said they went inside together, right?"

“How is that even possible?” Pritha asked. “How is it...it had _tentacles,_ Rochelle. Dozens of them, at least, and Carlos…Carlos was…”

“That was Cecil’s voice,” Rochelle said. “I couldn’t see who – what – that thing was, it was too dark…” she trailed off, looking over her shoulder, and she shivered.

“I know,” Jamahn said. He opened his mouth as if he might say more, then closed it, shaking his head. “Let’s get out of here. This is all a little too Night Vale for me.”

“But – Carlos,” Pritha said. "Do we just leave him there?"

Rochelle glanced at her and nodded. “Maybe we can stay at Pritha’s, see if any lights come on later, at least make sure there are at least some signs of life?”

“Fine, but let’s go,” Jamahn said as he closed the door quietly. “I wonder if we can arrange to get reeducated or something. I’d _really_ like to forget that forever.”

Shaken and unsure, they made their way back to Pritha’s apartment.

 

* * *

 

Carlos opened his eyes in response to a caress on his cheek. Tentacles withdrew from his wrists and ankles, as well as other parts of his body, almost contritely, rubbing affectionately against him as they pulled away. Cecil’s hand followed the tendril across Carlos’s face.

“Everything all right?” he asked quietly. “That wasn’t too much, was it, sweetheart?”

Carlos smiled and covered Cecil’s hand with his own. “You know it wasn’t,” he said. “That was _amazing._ ”

One tentacle reached out to the bedside table and looped around a glass of water, which it carried to Carlos’s lips. He sipped gratefully. As the tentacle slowly began to retract back into its hiding place, Cecil caught the glass in one hand, sipped, and returned it to the table. Another tentacle dabbed a damp cloth over Carlos’s body with tender attentiveness.

“Kidnapped by a monster,” Carlos chided Cecil as the last of the tentacles disappeared, kissing his forehead, his nose, his chin. “Fuck or die. Honestly.”

“You didn’t seem to mind at the time,” Cecil said, pulling Carlos into his arms.

“I still don’t mind. You were wonderful. You _are_ wonderful.” Carlos yawned and snuggled closer. “I love you,” he added, just before drifting off to sleep.

“I love you, too,” Cecil said, as his eyes drifted shut.

 

* * *

“We should have stayed. We should have at least _tried_ to help him,” Rochelle said as they let themselves into the lab the following morning.

They had stayed up until early that morning, when a light had come on in Carlos's hallway and they had been able to make out two shapes moving around the apartment. They had debated the merits of calling the police or going back into the apartment, but had finally come to the conclusion that any further action on their part would be too little, too late.

“But what could we have done?” Pritha asked. “I mean…that was a _monster,_ Rochelle.”

“I don’t know, but-”

At that moment, a car pulled up in the parking lot. They watched in mingled horror and awe as Carlos climbed out. “Bye, sweetie,” he said, just before he closed the door. “See you tonight.”

The scientists unconsciously drew closer together as they spotted Cecil behind the wheel. He waved at them before putting the car in gear and driving away.

Carlos whistled as he made his way over to the lab door. “Hey guys. You’re here early. I thought I’d be the first one in this morning.”

“Carlos? You’re…um, you’re really early,” Rochelle said lamely.

Carlos looked at her, bemused. “Yeah…that’s what I just said. I’m early, you’re early, we’re all early.”

"Right, sorry.”

Carlos continued to whistle, then began to hum as he switched on his computer. The others made their way to their respective seats, eyeing Carlos warily.

“You’re in such a good mood this morning,” Pritha said. “You look so rested.”

“Huh? Oh…yeah,” Carlos smiled, looking flustered. “I guess I am. I slept _really_ well last night.” He studied Rochelle’s face as he shuffled through some folders on his desk. “Actually, you look kind of tired. All of you do. Late night? Did you make any progress on those samples from the petting zoo?”

“Um, no,” Jamahn said. “We’re going to work on those today. Are you sure you’re okay, man?”

“Yeah, of course, why?”

Pritha leaned across her own workspace and took Carlos’s hand. “You know you can tell us anything, right?”

Carlos withdrew his hand from hers slowly and looked around. “Okay,” he said. “What’s going on? You’re all acting super-weird. Did someone get throat spiders again? I definitely don't have throat spiders.”

“Nothing,” Rochelle said quickly. “Nothing is going on. We’re just concerned about you, that’s all. But…if you say everything’s okay, then we believe that. We all believe that everything’s okay, until you tell us otherwise.”

Carlos stood again and stepped away from the table. “Thanks,” he replied cautiously. “If anything is ever not okay, I’ll keep that in mind.”

“But it is? Okay?” Rochelle asked. “Everything?”

"Yes, Rochelle. Everything. Is. Okay,” Carlos enunciated. “Can we please just try to have a normal morning without all this creepy concern? You guys are freaking me out. And now, I’m going to take my okay self and start a pot of coffee, any takers?”

“Yes,” they all answered, more or less in unison.

“He looks…great, actually,” Pritha said, as soon as he left the room. “He's just... _glowing_ , and so happy...how is that possible?”

“Maybe it’s not really even Carlos anymore,” Jamahn said darkly. “For all we know, this is like, a body snatchers situation. Maybe he’s being controlled by tentacle monster eggs or something.”

“Ahem.” They all jumped in their seats and turned to the doorway. Cecil stood there, looking around expectantly. “Oh, hi,” he said as three sets of eyes swiveled in his direction, all openly hostile. “Sorry to, uh, interrupt your work. It’s just…” he held up a paper bag. “Carlos left his breakfast in the car.”

“Oh! Oh. Um…” Rochelle stammered, looking toward the break room, then back to Cecil. He smiled, looking tidy, affable, and utterly harmless. Rochelle blushed and looked away hurriedly.

Mercifully, Carlos returned at that moment. His face lit up when he saw Cecil. “Hi Cecil, what's - oh! My breakfast! Thanks.” He accepted the little bag from Cecil.

“No problem. We don’t want low blood sugar compromising your ability to do quality science.”

“You’re so thoughtful,” Carlos said, and kissed Cecil on the cheek.

“No problem,” Cecil murmured, turning toward the door. “Oh, and Carlos?”

“Mmm?”

“You might want to tell your colleagues that it _isn’t_ tentacle monster eggs,” he said in a stage whisper. “They seem a little nervous.” He squeezed Carlos’s hand, and departed, a gust of warm desert air sweeping into the lab as the door slowly swung shut.

**Author's Note:**

> The prompt can be found here: http://nightvalecommunitykink.dreamwidth.org/822.html?thread=780342#cmt780342
> 
> It was very detailed! Here's the whole thing:
> 
> Carlos and the other scientists notice very quickly how much Cecil influences what's going on in Night Vale, no matter how much he would deny it himself. At first his fellow scientists strongly advise Carlos to use Cecil's obvious crush in his (and all of their) favor, regardless of how creepy and terrifying they all think this form of crushing is. Because as long as Cecil wants Carlos, he will influence Night Vale towards being less dangerous for them.  
> Then Carlos almost dies, but the impossibility of his rescue is more proof for their theory. They urge him towards giving Cecil more.  
> Carlos does, although not only because of what his colleagues say. He starts dating him partly for reasons of expediency, but Carlos really falls in love with Cecil as well.
> 
> Seeing the changes in Carlos' behavior towards Night Vale-standards is rather horrifying for his colleagues. They also have a very guilty conscience because they practically shoved him into the arms of someone so...stalker-ish.  
> One day they decide to spy on them to make sure Cecil is at least not abusive behind closed doors. They didn't plan on peeping while they have sex, but that is what happens. And what they see is, to them, the worst ever. (Along the line of Eldritch!Cecil violating a helplessly whimpering Carlos.)  
> In truth, whatever happens between Cecil and Carlos is very enthusiastic consent, with Cecil taking extra thorough care of his lover the way Carlos likes it best.
> 
> Bonus:
> 
> * Carlos whimpers and moans in a way that can be mistaken for aching, while it's everything but that  
> * tentacles, triple-penetration and more  
> * begging for more, fluff and/or happy snuggles once no one listens in anymore  
> * appalled and conscience-stricken scientists trying to comfort a very bemused and oblivious (as well as blissfully fucked-out) Carlos the next day


End file.
